Uncommon Business

Uncommon Business

We are all fallible humans. We bend, break, cry, and kick the dust up. We hurt and lose people we love, and sometimes what’s left in the wake of the tornado feels irreparable. Often things can feel beyond mend, and we want so badly to stay down. 

(Don’t worry. This newsletter isn’t all doom and gloom, I promise) 

Pandemics happen, and how business is performed has changed indefinitely and will continue to evolve. As will our beautifully broken lives. 

We will get fired, embarrassed, and rejected.

Yet beyond all that is light. 

Behind every personal battle, there will still reside the phrase…

“Business as usual”

There comes a time when we must resume life and business. And overcome despite the odds. 

That phrase, though, feels painful. It’s back to business as usual, they say, but don’t they know my mom just died, and then so did my dad? Don’t they know my toddler refused to sleep, and when my body had the chance to rest, my brain wouldn’t? 

Unfortunately, the world won’t slow down very long for your hurts and your griefs and your rejections, but you can…

You can decide that in your cracks of brokenness, you can find yourself again and come out of the flames brazen and shining (or at least not quite so dull). 

We’ve all had pain and sorrow, and we will continue to. But how will you choose to mend? 

How will you pick up the broken pieces and create something magical and beautiful to beat the odds this business world throws at you? 

For me, it looked like learning: 

I don’t have the perfect answer (it looks different for us all), but I do know it comes in carrying on and pushing forward. In patience, love, and in

grace. In not making the rearview mirror your only outlook. 

Look ahead to what the future you can be. 

Aspire towards that, continue to help others, and you will get through. 

You can and will power on. 

Did you ever have a time when your siblings buried you in the hot sand on the beach in hundred-degree heat? I vividly remember a scorching summer day on lake Couer D’Alene where my two brothers one older, one younger, and my older sister dug a deep hole, and I laid in it. I always volunteered to be the adventurous scapegoat. The cold wet sand felt incredible at first. Bucket by bucket they covered my legs, then my arms, and my neck until I couldn’t move. The original cool sand became a weighted dry cocoon. Sand went up my nose and it felt suffocating. Until mom came to the rescue and made them set me free (thanks mom for doing me a solid). That dunk into the water was GLORIOUS!!  Sand gone, crisp cold lake water to refresh me, and some awkward swimsuit maneuvers to get it from the unmentionable crevices. 

This story can feel a lot how heavy disappointments do. They stick and they linger and sometimes creep into parts of our minds we wish they’d just leave (hello self-doubt). 

But the time will come when you must resume business as usual. Following a pandemic, massive failure, or a loss, it can feel damn hard. 

I promise you, if you choose to take your uncommon circumstances and share them (even if they are personal), they can and will be the things that make you a more robust professional. 

So go running into that lake and shake it off. Sure, you’ll still need a shower when you get home (aka you’ll still have to work through things). Yet, you will come out with a story to tell and a more refined strategy for the next go-round. 

“Every adversity, every failure, every heartache carries with it the seed of an equal or greater benefit.”
Napoleon Hill

Let’s continue to unravel together, my friends. I’m so glad you’re here. 

Wishing it was S’more season and Summer time again. Soon enough!